Saving the Doctor
by MercilessKillerBunny
Summary: Koschei had long ago admitted to himself that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his best friend – even if the other never returned these sentiments. So when he looks into the Untempered Schism, seeing all the what could bes, he resolves to make it not so.


There are whispers of a man living in the darkness. Said to have been trapped there as punishment for crimes so terrible just speaking of them would make anyone go crazy, he – like all monsters – is drawn to his own kind. That's why, sometimes when a child, in a fit of anger or vindiction, speaks words of ill intention towards those who have wronged him, the man will come out of the darkness and make those wishes come true. And when he is done, he will drag the screaming child with him into the darkness and they will never be seen again.

These stories are often disregarded as old wives' tales. It is, however, a fact that different versions of this tale can be found all over the galaxy, even among people who have never had contact with the outside world. Some versions say it is only young women whom the Man In the Darkness helps, others say he serves only one person, the one who trapped him, but the core of the matter is always the same: the man is a monster.

* * *

Two men face each other in the barren ruins of what once was a beautiful planet.

One of them looks horrified. The other, indifferent.

The why remains unasked, but the men have known each other since they were children, and the indifferent one knows his best friend's thoughts as surely as if he'd spoken them aloud.

''It had to be done, you understand. They grew arrogant and careless. Sooner or later, they would not have done something that needed to be done, and everyone would have suffered for their error. It's better now, with just you and me.'' His voice is passionate, and Koschei can hear the underlying _can't you see?_

What scares Koschei the most is that the other actually believes what he is saying to be the truth, that his ideals have become so twisted he thinks killing everyone in the name of a greater good is an acceptable thing to do. Koschei had no love for their race, had left for a reason, but even he would not have been capable of destroying them so thoroughly.

* * *

He left home a renegade and comes back a hero. He had never imagined coming back to Gallifrey, not to mention doing so to words of gratitude – claps on the back rather than threats of punishment.

But behind their welcoming demeanors they are fearful of him because he did something they never would have dared, even though it was their words that encouraged him to do so.

A face that is not yet familiar but will be makes him rush forward, grinning like a loon. The two meet each other halfway and desperation makes the embrace painful for both of them, but neither wants to let go. And still, Theta Sigma thinks, still Koschei's eyes are the same as the rest of the crowd's. Distant, wary, carefully not judging his actions either way.

That's okay for now. He isn't feeling vindictive, not yet. He has all the time in the world, and one genocide is enough for the day.

* * *

Theta Sigma is always by Koschei's side. Sweet, precious Theta Sigma, with his dreams of travelling in time and space, visiting every single planet out there, changing things, putting his own signature on the universe. Brilliant, yet so very oblivious, always getting into tight situations, some of which he would have trouble getting out of, without Koschei there. To Koschei, the solution to this is obvious. He will just have to always be there for him.

Koschei had long ago admitted to himself that there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his best friend – even if the other never returned these sentiments. So when he looks into the Untempered Schism, seeing all the what could bes, he resolves to make it not so.

There are drums in his head now. Soon, he discovers that the more he changes the possibilities ahead, the louder the drums become. That feels natural, almost good, a confirmation of a job well done, even when the pain gets so bad he can barely breathe. He knows that's not right, that there's something wrong with him, has been ever since looking into the Vortex. He wants to tell Theta everything but he can't because then all his work might go to waste. He might lose Theta for good.

But he does, anyway.

He watches Theta change. First, after the initiation, he becomes even more obsessed with leaving than he had been before. What had once been the far-off of dreams of a child become concrete plans of departure. A question of when rather than if. Then, he starts to avoid Koschei. Koschei feels hurt, wants to confront him, confess his feelings, but the more time Theta spends away from him, the more intense the drums get, so he does nothing, thinking this is probably the right thing to do, even if it doesn't feel that way.

He spends a day wrapped up in his blankets, trying not to think because thinking hurts, and nothingness is the only thing that can calm the drums even for a moment. He imagines he can hear the door open at one point, but doesn't risk upsetting his head even more to check.

When he finally dares leave his room, it's only to find that Theta – no, Doctor now – has left Gallifrey. He wants to feel betrayed, angry, but his head is still sore and the drums are still beating, so he doesn't.

* * *

It's only after his first regeneration – the result of slipping and falling off a balcony, though he'll never admit that to anyone – that he follows in the Doctor's foot steps, finally escaping Gallifrey. Whereas the Koschei before had been levelheaded and sentimental, unwilling to leave his home in spite of his strong distaste towards the rest of his race, this newer version is rash and raring to leave the old suckers behind.

He chooses the name Master for himself because it tastes right and it makes the drums beat oh-so-deliciously, in a rhythm that makes him think of beating others into submission. He implements these thoughts on the first planet he gets to, resulting in him being swiftly deposited in the town prison cell, his Tardis safely stored elsewhere. Promises of wealth and fame have the guard releasing him and a crushed windpipe has him released of those obligations. He acquieres directions to his Tardis in a similar manner and, thinking of the mess he has landed himself in, he decides to relocate immediately. It's alright, though. He's only beginning to learn, after all.

* * *

The life of his first regeneration is short and unsatisfying. It's failure after failure after failure, the last one of which leads to him bleeding at the back of some alley and regenerating into an older gentleman, who is much better at the diplomatic approach – that is, he uses words to lure people into a false sense of security before pummeling them to death. He is also much worse at dealing with defeat, meaning that instead of fleeing he takes to destroying all the people that get in the way.

Soon, his attempts at manipulating small groups of people into doing things his way become attempts at controlling whole races and, failing that, destroying whole planets. The transition comes very naturally, and he doesn't know what to think of that, so he doesn't. He has become quite adept at ignoring the obvious.

The drums are sometimes loud, their tempo quick enough to make him feel dizzy trying to keep up the destruction, and sometimes they are slow and quiet enough for him to dismiss them for a while and just _rest, _allowing him to acknowledge the wrongness of what he's doing. But that doesn't happen often, and the louder the drums are, the easier it is for him to forget himself, throwing caution to the wind, and that's how he ends up burning through regeneration after regeneration in a matter of some few hundred years, until he's left with only one, and he suddenly realizes his own mortality.

He knows that if he doesn't see the Doctor now, he never might again, and the thought of that is even more chilling than the thought of meeting his doom. So he starts to listen to the stories and rumours he has very carefully ignored up until now.

He learns that the Doctor has become a hero, not like the one that could have been, but the one he was meant to be – a reluctant saviour. Saving people the same way Koschei is oppressing them. The Doctor to his Master. That thought makes him laugh out, very much aware that the Doctor has never been his, the same way Theta Sigma had never been Koschei's, not really. The Doctor burns too bright to ever be contained by anyone.

He finds out the Doctor has been confined to 20th century Earth by the Time Lords for breaking their rules, and that is just the definition of ironic, isn't it, the Doctor being punished for doing the right thing, while the real criminal goes unpunished. He gets there and is surprised by how much the Doctor has changed, though comparing him to Theta is probably as unfair as comparing himself to Koschei. Those are not the people they are anymore. Now, they are the Doctor and the Master, sworn enemies. And the Doctor has Theta's sharp wit and his taste for adventure, but not his warm laughter or his kind eyes, not for the Master, at least. The way he looks at those skimpily-clad assistants of his is enough to make the Master's blood boil, but he does manage to keep these feelings to himself. This particular regeneration is a master of pretense and suave words – more than capable of fooling even himself.

The Master has become used to winning, so it is infuriating to lose to that bumble-headed idiot time after time. But he keeps coming back for more, hoping for what, he doesn't know. Perhaps to win back the affections of the man who had once been his best friend, though the continued refusals of his offer for shared world domination are a hint of how likely that is to happen.

They start calling them the enmity of ages, and that seems oddly fitting.

* * *

In the end, he is helpless to save the man Theta had become from becoming the man in the Schism. Mostly because he is busy fleeing to the far reaches of the universe but also because he doesn't think he has it in him anymore. There is a black hole, now, where there was once a bond tighter than that between blood brothers.

* * *

Yana is an uncomplicated man, even when he isn't. Endings are all there is to him. The world is ending, people are dying, hope is long gone. He ignores the small beginnings all around him – a child being born or something broken made into something new – because it doesn't suit him. The eternal ending is what drives him to build the rocket, to try to escape the inevitable doom. He is drawn to the Doctor, mysterious, brilliant, so old, so seemingly unending, and that makes the Master laugh. Just can't get enough of him, can I.

He lets go of the life he had previously clung to ferociously because finally the roles have been reversed, finally the Doctor needs him more than he needs the Doctor. Besides, he knows this isn't the end – hate of endings being something he shares with Yana – and that he will have a second chance to take up the Doctor's offer.

* * *

The revelation about the drums' origin makes him want to do drastic things to Rassilon and the High Council. He has built himself a web of lies so vast and complicated he doesn't think even he can tell the truths apart from the lies anymore. Instead of working to avoid the images of his initiation, he has worked towards _this, _whatever this is.

He does know that one thing this will not be is the Doctor's death, so he does what he resolved to do all those centuries ago: he saves the Doctor.

He expects that to be the end – oh, how he hates those.

And it is.

Of a sorts.

* * *

''So, you're all better now?'' It sounds like a question, looks and feels like one, but a question is most certainly not what it is. These two know each other too well for questions; the question had been answered long before it was asked. But it needed to be spoken aloud because returning to old habits is never easy, and they still aren't as comfortable with each other as they once had been.

That's alright, though, they have all the time in the universe to relearn to know each other.

''Yes, I suppose so.'' That's Koschei speaking, and Theta Sigma smiles widely. He's glad to be rid of that _well hello there, Doctor, what a surprise – yes, isn't it just?_ nonsense and although many words are left unsaid – apologies, confessions, explanations – somehow none of that matters here, now, with just the two of them.

''That's good, then.''

They smile at each other, and that's that. It might not be perfect but it's getting there.


End file.
